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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898881">i am a dark and wicked thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist'>Cunninglinguist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Bodily Fluids, Character Turned Into Vampire, Child Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, First Time, Horror, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Injury, Kissing, Knives, M/M, Medical Examination, Pining, Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, They are 17, Underage Sex, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:20:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22898881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Klaus is staring at Diego with hollow eyes, straw still perched between his lips. No reaction, not even a spark of joy or schadenfreude as he watches Diego disrupt breakfast. Diego shifts. He’s seen corpses before, and were Klaus not sitting close enough to touch, chest rising and falling visibly with his breath, Diego could easily mistake him for one.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Vampire!Klaus AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diego Hargreeves &amp; Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. part one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been two months since it happened. </p><p>Diego still doesn’t fully understand what <em>it</em> is, but whatever happened, it turned his favorite brother and best friend in this whole fucking house into a withering husk of his former self. </p><p>Dad’s program drones on and on as Diego watches his siblings sit quietly, gazes glued on identical bowls of Mom’s oatmeal.  How can they all just <em>sit</em> there, meanwhile…</p><p>He hazards a glance across the table. Dread curdles in his stomach. Klaus is sitting across from him, like usual, but he’s just...staring into space. His skin is pallid and damp, like he has a fever. His usually vibrant green eyes are vacant and dull, almost milky, sunken into bruise-dark circles. No notes creatively passed under the table. No jokes or promises of mischievous plots to get into Dad’s liquor cabinet or to sneak out to the corner store for a new stash of comics hidden in that gaze.</p><p>
  <em>There’s nothing there.</em>
</p><p> A pale hand rests limply on the table, and Diego is momentarily possessed by the urge to push it off, just to see if <em>that</em> gets a reaction from his brother. He doesn’t do it. </p><p>Instead, he watches Klaus curl long, skinny fingers around a stainless steel tumbler, the same one that he’s been bringing to every meal. Chapped lips part like an afterthought as he brings the straw to his mouth and takes a long sip. Diego frowns. What the hell is in that thing, anyway? </p><p>Maybe there’s something wrong with Klaus’ stomach, and he can’t have any solid foods. But if that were the case, why wouldn’t Dad just tell them? Even if you take his less than forthcoming nature into account, Mom or Pogo would have at least let it slip by now. Besides, whatever shitty meal substitute is in that tumbler is clearly not doing the trick--Klaus looks alarmingly, disgustingly frail, ready to keel over at any moment. </p><p>He just looks...wrong.</p><p>Anger flares in Diego’s gut, sudden and corrosive. He fixes their father with accusatory eyes and braces himself. “Excuse me.”</p><p>Spines stiffen almost audibly and shoes scuff nervously against hardwood flooring. Reginald’s face remains obscured by newspaper, flipping to the next page as though nothing had been said.</p><p>Diego clears his throat. <em>“Excuse</em> me.” </p><p>Reginald snaps his paper closed and raises a thick white eyebrow. “Number Two, what is the meaning of this?”</p><p>“I want to know why Klaus isn’t eating like the rest of us.” Diego can feel his siblings’ eyes burning into him. “I haven’t seen him eat anything since..."</p><p>“Number Four is still recovering from injuries sustained during the last operation,” snaps Reginald. He flicks the newspaper open with a crisp finality. “He must take his meals in liquid form for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>Klaus is staring at Diego with hollow eyes, straw still perched between his lips. No reaction, not even a spark of joy or schadenfreude as he watches Diego disrupt breakfast. Diego shifts. He’s seen corpses before, and were Klaus not sitting close enough to touch, chest rising and falling visibly with his breath, Diego could easily mistake him for one.</p><p>“Why?” </p><p>Diego fights the instinct to shrink into himself as his father’s open contempt bleeds into the room. “Number Two,” he says, deceptively calm. “While I applaud your active pursuit of knowledge, this is conversation unbecoming of the breakfast table. As I’ve said, Number Four is sick, and Grace, Pogo, and I are doing everything in our power to help him heal to the fullest extent. This is all I will say on the matter, and any further questions about the subject, during meal time or otherwise, will be met with harsh discipline. Is that understood?”</p><p>Diego’s head bows under the hot weight of shame. He nods slightly. </p><p>“I can’t hear you, Number Two. Is that understood?”</p><p>“Y-yes,” murmurs Diego, studying the texture of his napkin until he’s certain that he’s sucked any unshed tears of humiliation back into his eyes. When he finally looks up, everyone is  carrying on as though nothing happened. </p><p>Everyone except for Klaus, whose haunting gaze is still fixed on Diego. It’s cold and penetrating and so, so empty. Every hair on the back of Diego’s neck stands on end as he averts his eyes. Klaus has <em>never</em> looked at him like that. Thoroughly unsettled, Diego slurps down another spoonful of oatmeal before hastily excusing himself from the table. </p><p>In the coming weeks, Klaus becomes even more scarce. Diego misses him like crazy. They’d always been close, even as little kids, but ever since Five disappeared, and then Ben...well. Without Ben, Klaus had clung to Diego like a life raft, bringing them closer than ever. Not that he would ever admit it, especially not to Klaus, but Diego loved being there for him, and having Klaus there in return. And it’s not that weird, not when Diego really thinks about it. Klaus is the best; he’s the only comfort, the only reprieve from all the grim things hidden in the specter of this fucked up house, from all the grim things waiting beyond the front gate. </p><p>Klaus is the one who has the audacity to sneak into Diego’s room after lights out with candy and cigarettes and comics, and occasionally water bottles filled with Dad’s booze. He’s always the one cracking jokes, finding humor in places Diego’s convinced it can’t be found. </p><p>Diego misses their conversations, almost as much as he misses falling asleep together while reading comics by flashlight under the covers. It’s not as easy as it used to be now that Klaus has shot up to, like, eight foot three in the past year, with Diego following suit, but they still manage to fit themselves into Diego’s bed because Klaus is so damn skinny. They might have to kind of curl up around each other, and Klaus usually falls asleep with his head on Diego’s arm or shoulder. Not that he’d ever admit it, but Diego is pretty okay with that, despite the ensuing pins and needles.</p><p>It’s been just about impossible for Diego to fall asleep since the accident. He lies on his back and gazes up at the moon through the window. Sometimes he snakes a hand into his pants and thinks of green eyes and rosy cheeks and soft curls, but even that doesn’t help much. Klaus’ absence still creeps into his tiny twin bed and pools around him like ice water. </p><p>Time passes, and no one talks about it. Once or twice, Allison looks over at Diego like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Time passes, and Klaus doesn’t sneak into Diego’s room. Sometimes he doesn’t even come to breakfast. Diego knows he’s gotta be <em>really</em> sick, but he wishes he knew more. Maybe there’s something he can do to help.</p><p>But Mom, Dad, and Pogo stay quiet and secretive, and vigilant to boot. No matter the time nor the place, Klaus is always accompanied by at least one of them. He never looks any better, either, not even as days turn into weeks, growing skinnier and skinnier. He moves so slowly, like he’s spent from exercising his powers for a prolonged period of time, and those sunken eyes roll in his head like he doesn’t know how to see. Though every last one of his instincts is screaming at him, Diego shoves them aside and says nothing, asks no questions, just like the others.</p><p>One night, Diego’s on his way to bed later than usual after an extended training session when he sees Klaus. He’s slumped against the banister, legs buckling, a pained wheeze rattling from his chest. Pogo looks on from the top of the staircase, brow furrowed, watching Klaus clutch at the wood for dear life, doing nothing. </p><p>What the <em>fuck?</em> Why isn’t Pogo helping him? Why isn’t <em>anyone</em> helping him?!</p><p>Before he can register what he’s doing, Diego runs to him. </p><p>“Diego, no!” Pogo cries, but Diego’s too fast. He hooks his hands under his brothers armpits and coaxes Klaus to lean against him. His head lolls back and he looks up at Diego with bloodshot eyes. His hair is ratty, tangled in matted curls like he hasn’t showered in a week, and he reeks like dirt and sweat and decay. </p><p>“Hey, Klaus. Hey.” Diego tries to smile at him, but his lips twist into a grimace, unable to mask his horror, barely able to stifle his vomit. He has no idea what virus or disease or injury could cause Klaus to turn into this, but the cold doubt in his heart tells him it’s something beyond his abilities of perception. </p><p>“Diego,” murmurs Klaus, and Diego’s heart breaks a little more. He looks and sounds like he’s been locked in the mausoleum, throat screamed raw with fear, and Diego clutches him to his chest harder. Klaus’ hair tickles his neck, like it does when they fall asleep together, or when Diego spends a little more time than necessary pinning Klaus beneath him in the sparring gym. Warmth ripples in Diego’s gut and unspools in his chest; he’s missed touch so much. He’s missed Klaus so much! Klaus tilts his face upwards, and his forehead rubs against the flesh of Diego’s neck. The warmth rushes from Diego as quickly as it came.</p><p>Klaus’ skin is freezing.</p><p>Like he’s dead.</p><p>Diego gasps and almost drops him, but bony fingers cling to his forearms, nails cutting into his skin like blades.</p><p>“Oh my god, w-what happened to you?” Hot tears spring to Diego’s eyes, cracking his voice. Klaus’ eyes grow somewhat crazed as he nuzzles his cold nose against Diego’s neck, a gesture that would usually have Diego’s heart skipping a beat in a way that he wouldn’t like to examine too closely. All he can feel now is a soul-deep dread. </p><p>“Diego,” says Klaus again, and he turns in his arms and opens frostbitten lips against Diego’s neck, and there’s a high-pitched buzzing in his ears and everything goes haywire at once—</p><p>Klaus’ frail body is yanked away from Diego, who’s too stunned to move. Pogo is saying something, and Klaus is fighting against Grace’s machine strength, whimpering as she pulls him away. </p><p>“What the <em>hell</em> is wrong with him?!” Diego shrieks as Grace carries him up the stairs. </p><p>Pogo lays a gentle hand on Diego’s forearm and looks up at him with big, piteous eyes. “Master Diego, I—“</p><p>There’s a thunder-loud crack, and sharp, white-hot pain. Diego whirls around, stumbling down at least three stairs before finding his bearing on the banister. Reginald is standing over him, usually unfeeling eyes hot with rage, hand stilled in its trajectory, palm reddening from the force of his slap. Diego tastes pennies in his mouth. </p><p>“Number Two.” Reginald’s wrath cools as he composes himself, clasping his hands imperiously behind his back. “I told you to go straight to bed, did I not?”</p><p>Diego nods, sniffing the blood back into his nose with a little cough. </p><p>Reginald wraps his fingers around Diego’s bicep and jerks him. “Did I <em>not?</em>”</p><p>“Y-yes, s-s-sir.”</p><p>“More importantly, I told you not to bother Number Four as he recovers from his illness, did I not?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” He looks up, hating the tears that blur his vision. “D-Dad, what’s wrong with him?”</p><p>Reginald’s nostrils flare, but his face softens slightly. This alarms Diego more than the rage; he can count on one half-hand the amount of times he’s watched his father express any kind of sympathy towards him or his siblings.</p><p>“It is only natural that you and the others should want some answers, seeing as Number Four has been unable to join you properly for some time now.” The hand uncurls from its death grip on Diego’s arm and moves to rest stiffly on his shoulder. “You shall have them, in time, I assure you. However, at this moment, I urge you to allow Number Four the space he requires to heal, to accept his condition. Can you do that for me, Number Two?”</p><p>Diego nods dumbly. </p><p>Reginald’s mouth forms the closest thing to a smile Diego’s ever seen. He pats Diego on the back twice. “Superb. Off to bed you go.”</p><p>Diego glances back to where Klaus had been, but the space is now empty and quiet. He doesn’t know where they took him, or what they’re doing to him, but the irritation quickly cracking his father’s placating facade tells him not to press his luck. </p><p>He doesn’t tell the others what he saw, nor what his father said to him. Maybe it would have been different if any of them had seemed to care, but no one so much as glances in the direction of Klaus’ room. They do care, they <em>must</em> care, but maybe Dad got to them, too…</p><p>If only Ben were here…</p><p>Diego swallows the lump in his throat that always shows up whenever he thinks about Ben. Ben would have backed him up. He would have cared. He would have teamed up with Diego to find out exactly what happened, and maybe even help him jailbreak Klaus.</p><p>But Ben’s gone. And Five is gone. And now so is Klaus, so Diego swallows the lump and the pain and the questions and the anger and time passes. He trains and eats and prays for sleep. He spars and takes out bank robbers and jewel thieves and one maniacal scientist as the distance between him and his siblings yawns like a black hole.</p><p>One morning, Diego’s traipsing down the hall for breakfast, trying to quiet his thoughts for the day, when he stops dead in his tracks. There’s <em>singing</em> coming from Klaus’ room. His heart rate picks up as he approaches the door to his brother’s room, not daring to hope, but hoping anyway... </p><p>He knocks cautiously, and the singing stops. </p><p>“Who is it?”  </p><p><em>Klaus!</em> </p><p>“It’s, um. It’s Diego.”</p><p>“Oh. Come in.”</p><p>Diego pushes the door open and his jaw hits the floor. Klaus is spinning around in one of Allison’s kimonos, black and bright green tassels twirling about his bare thighs. He turns to grin at Diego, cheeks flushed a healthy pink, eyes sparkling with just a hint of mania. “Do you like it?”</p><p>Diego remembers to close his mouth and nods. </p><p>Klaus’ hands find his slender hips and he pouts. “That’s not super convincing.”</p><p>“I….yeah. Mm-hmm. I do like it. You look n-nice.” A thousand cogs and wheels are turning in Diego’s head and he doesn’t know how to process any of them. Klaus looks stunningly beautiful, maybe even more beautiful than before, and it’s not the smile or the outfit. There’s an otherworldly quality to him, and while it’s almost ridiculously enticing--Diego has to position his legs strategically to hide the clear beginnings of a raging hard-on--there’s also something mildly unsettling about it that Diego can’t quite put his finger on. </p><p>“Suppose I can’t wear this to breakfast without Dad pitching a fucking fit, can I.” Klaus peels off the kimono with a mournful sigh, leaving him clad in nothing but his white knee socks and briefs as he rummages through a pile of clothes on a chair, slowly parsing his academy uniform together.  Diego gawks, mouth dry, blood pulsing between his legs, questions tangling in his head like yarn. </p><p>“Klaus, are you...what the f-fuck is going on with you?” </p><p>Klaus turns to him, an eyebrow raised, mirth draining slowly from his face. Diego fidgets with his hands. There’s something not quite Klaus about that look, and he wishes he’d never said anything--</p><p>Until Klaus smiles easily and Diego wonders if he imagined it. “I’ve been sick. Really, really sick. Dad’s been...hmm. Mom has been trying to help me, Pogo too, making me special drinks, but—“</p><p>“What do you mean ‘sick?’ Like, you were poisoned?”</p><p>After a long moment, Klaus reaches for the makeup wipes on his desk. Diego stares as he swipes one over the area where his neck meets his shoulder, and his stomach swoops. There, like rose petals on freshly fallen snow, are two unmistakable, healing puncture wounds. </p><p>“I got bit.” </p><p>“Bit? By...what?”</p><p>“A vampire, Diego.”</p><p>Diego wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Shut the fuck up.”</p><p>“I’m not kidding.” That decidedly un-Klaus solemnity is back, and in that moment, Diego knows that it’s true. He grimaces, subconsciously backing up towards the door.</p><p>Klaus lets out a laugh and waves his hand. “Please, as if I’d ever hurt you.”</p><p>Diego goes boneless. “Oh. Uh, I know. S-sorry. This is just, um, this is just a lot of information, I don’t...I’ve been pretty w-worried about you. The way you don’t t-talk at dinner. You’re never around anymore. That night on the s-stairs. And after everything with B-B-B-..?”</p><p>“You’re stuttering like crazy again. I thought Dad made Mom fix that.” With a sad smile, Klaus crosses the room and cups Diego’s jaw. Diego gasps—<em>so cold</em>—but he leans into the touch. So cold, but so nice. He loves how generous Klaus is with physical touch. He never could be, but somehow, even with Dad being the way he is, and their upbringing, and everything…somehow Klaus is. Shit, he misses Klaus so much.</p><p>“You’re my favorite brother, you know,” says Klaus, rubbing a thumb over his freshly shaven face. </p><p>Diego blushes and looks away, trying to ignore the flip-flopping in his stomach. “What about B-B-”</p><p>Klaus’ eyes flash and his fingers stiffen. Hysterically, Diego wonders if he’s going to hit him. Maybe worse. “Don’t talk about him.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>Klaus softens. Diego just stands there, mind racing, thoroughly confused. “So, when you say you’re better now…what does that mean? You’re not a v-vampire anymore?”</p><p>“If only.” Klaus dabs his pale neck with cover-up. “I mean I found something more effective than Grace’s bullshit animal blood smoothies and Dad’s horrible, nonstop tests and Pogo’s hypnotherapy.”</p><p><em>”Blood smoothies?”</em> Diego’s stomach lurches. “Wait...you didn’t..”</p><p>“What, kill somebody? No.” Klaus shrugs on his blazer and  combs his fingers through his hair with a pout. He pauses, squinting up at the ceiling. “Well, I don’t think I did, anyway. He was still breathing when I left him. Fuck me, I miss mirrors.” He turns to Diego and points to his hair. “Does this look okay?”</p><p>“Wait. Wait. So. Wait.” Diego frowns. “Let me get this straight. You went out and found some guy. A stranger. And you...drank his blood. Like. You bit him, and sucked out his blood?” </p><p>Klaus is on him faster than he could have seen coming, pinning him against the wall with a superhuman strength. Diego can’t stop gasping for breath, overwhelmed by all of this new information being presented as fact, by all of this touching, all of this <em>Klaus</em>. </p><p>“I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t drink any blood. I’ve been here all night, got it?” The rage in Klaus’ eyes is feral, like a wolf, and Diego squirms, but he can’t get away, he can’t tear his eyes away, and he’s not sure he wants to. His heart could stop at any moment. “If they find out I was gone, they’re gonna lock me in the dark place and throw away the fucking key. I won’t go. I won’t go back there, Diego. <em>Diego.</em> Do you understand?”</p><p>Diego nods frantically. He doesn’t understand, but it sounds horrible, and he’s so scared that pissing his pants has become a genuine possibility. All he wants is his brother back, and if Klaus has to sneak out at night and do unspeakable things to make himself normal again, Diego will just have to do his best to not think too hard about it.</p><p>“Good. I wasn’t really scared that you’d say anything.” Klaus smiles as he releases Diego. “You’re the best. I love you, Di.”</p><p>The casual declaration of love and the use of Diego’s childhood nickname are almost too much for him, so he just smiles and straightens his uniform. He’s so close that he can see the pointy tips of Klaus’ canine teeth. Had they always been this long? </p><p>They walk to breakfast together, fingers brushing every third step, and Diego can’t stop thinking. He should be glad: Klaus is back, he’s looking better than he has in months, even telling jokes and giggling as they walk to the dining room.</p><p>But there’s a lingering malaise in the back of his mind that he can’t ignore. It’s like he’s walking with <em>almost</em> Klaus. Like someone is wearing Klaus’ skin, and it doesn’t quite fit. It sits poorly with him through the meal, making it impossible to choke down more than three spoonfuls of oatmeal without feeling like he might vomit it up.</p><p>Reginald’s scrutiny of Klaus is practically audible, ratcheting up the tension in the room to an almost untenable point. Allison and Vanya keep staring, Vanya’s mouth flopping open every time Klaus talks. Luther makes a point of looking anywhere but Klaus. Diego wonders what Five would have to say about any of this. He’d be on Dad about it like flies on shit, never one for keeping his opinions to himself. Ben, too. A mournful smile plays at Diego’s lips, feeling the absence of two siblings as one more almost slips through his fingers. </p><p>Klaus slurps down the contents of his tumbler easily and quickly, grinning and smacking his lips to reveal pink-tinged teeth.</p><p>
  <em>Blood smoothie.</em>
</p><p>“Children,” barks Reginald, standing abruptly to signal the end of breakfast. “You shall accompany Grace to the sparring gym for calisthenics, I will meet you for lessons shortly.”</p><p>Chairs scrape against the wooden floor as everyone hurries to get out of the dining room. Reginald turns to Klaus and booms, “Number Four, you shall join Pogo and me upstairs.” </p><p>Klaus leans against his chair and raises a defiant eyebrow. “But I’m feeling much better today. Good enough to train with the others.”</p><p>Reginald’s face contorts. “Non-negotiable.”</p><p>Diego glances over, fully expecting to see barely-masked fear. At least a faux-courageous smile. Instead, Klaus waves a hand and rolls his eyes, blasé. Diego furrows his brow, but Klaus mouths, “It’s okay.” </p><p>Diego may only be seventeen years old, but he has spent every single one of those years with Klaus, and not once has he ever acted like this. A chill settles in his bones like rot, but he has no choice but to leave Klaus in the dining room with Reginald and try not to be consumed with worry.</p><p>Diego doesn’t see Klaus for five entire days. None of his siblings do—this time, he asks. He walks by Klaus’ room at least three times a day, always dismayed to see the door standing slightly ajar, dark and empty like the pit in his chest. When he can fall asleep, he dreams of Klaus. Hot, vivid dreams, filled with full cherry-red lips and cool pale fingers and ecstatic moans that could almost be sobs.</p><p>He awakens drenched in sweat, heart beating wildly, thighs slick with come.</p><p>On the fifth night, Diego awakens with Klaus’ name on his lips and a throbbing erection. Caught between dismay and urgency, he goes to the bathroom to relieve himself. He comes in under a minute with his teeth buried in his forearm, and takes a piss for good measure.  On the way back to his room, he stops walking. Gooseflesh breaks out across his body.</p><p>Klaus’ door is closed.</p><p>He has to be in there. He <em>has</em> to.  As he approaches the door, Diego’s hope twists into despair at the sight of a deadbolt anchored by a heavy padlock, locking the door from the outside. </p><p>Did Dad find out about his late night excursion? Is Klaus a prisoner now? What the <em>fuck</em> is going on? Heart pounding erratically, Diego presses overheated palms to the door, followed by his ear. Nothing.</p><p>He raps his knuckles softly against the door. “Klaus,” he whispers, barely audible. He waits a beat, then two. Dead silence.</p><p>He kneels down and presses his palms and forehead to the floor, straining his eyesight in an attempt to glimpse any sign of life under his door. He can’t see jack shit, but he whispers once more, a little louder, “Klaus.”</p><p>No response. Not even a creaking floorboard or squeaky bed spring. Diego turns his head to hear better. No crying, no snoring, no singing. No breathing. </p><p>Frustrated, Diego sits up on his knees and peers through the keyhole. It’s dark as hell, which isn’t surprising, since Dad forced Klaus to make his night light a thing of the past when they were, like, eleven. The curtains must be closed, too. Diego can make out the shape of Klaus’ bed, but he can’t tell if anyone’s in it or not. His eye darts around the room, wishing he could see more, grunting in frustration when he can’t. </p><p>He rests his hand against the door and tries, one last time, an urgent whisper, more vocal than the last, <em>”Klaus.”</em></p><p>A bloodshot, manic green eye materializes just beyond the keyhole, staring directly at Diego. An inhuman groan of pain issues from the room and pierces Diego to his core as the eye rolls wildly in its socket. The door shakes violently, like Klaus is throwing his body against it, rattling the chain.</p><p>Diego lets out a scream and jerks backwards, smacking his head on the opposing corridor wall in his haste to put distance between himself and that eye. </p><p>There’s a great commotion, and lights are flickering, doors opening, voices shouting as Allison, Luther, and Vanya pour into the hallway.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Allison cries, hands flying to her face as Luther stares dumbly and Vanya cowers in her doorway. </p><p>“Did you hear that?” Diego hates how high pitched his voice is. He looks Vanya in the eye and she shrinks back. “You’re right next to him, you must have heard that!”</p><p>She shakes her head, face pale. </p><p>“I should be the one asking the questions here,” barks Luther, finding his voice and puffing out his chest. “Now, what in the—“</p><p>“What the devil is going on down here?” Reginald’s presence booms louder than his voice, and the children fall silent as he marches down the stairs, monocle glinting in the lamplight. He stops just before Diego, towering over him. “Number Two. Explain yourself at once.”</p><p>Diego opens his mouth but words won’t come out, the sound of agony ringing in his ears.</p><p>“Out with it!”</p><p>“He’s <em>suffering</em> in there!” Diego finally cries, pointing to the heavily locked door. He turns to his siblings, beseeching. “I tried to see if he was okay and I saw—I saw—“</p><p>“You saw a very sick boy!” Reginald shouts. Diego can’t argue with that, because Klaus looked anything but healthy, anything but sane. </p><p>Reginald fixes the siblings with the same cold, clinical look that usually precedes a particularly unpleasant mission. “It’s time you learned the truth. Your brother, Number Four, was infected with a rare virus during our last mission. It has caused some...disturbing and unprecedented changes in both his physical makeup as well as his demeanor. I, along with Pogo, and Grace, am working incessantly to ensure that he fully recovers.”</p><p>He gestures to the locks on Klaus’ door, and Diego sees his siblings’ eyes go wide as dinner plates. Finally, some reasonable reactions to this absolute madness. “Though this may appear rather drastic, I assure you all that it is for Number Four’s own good, as well as your safety.”</p><p>“Can’t we do something to help him?” Diego knows he’s whining, that his father won’t respond, but he has to try. The silence that has fallen behind Klaus’ door is even more frightening than any noises could be.</p><p>Reginald shakes his head, looking as close to apologetic as he ever has. “It isn’t safe, Number Two.”</p><p>Diego means to reply. He wants his father to know that he <em>knows,</em> but the thought of betraying Klaus’ trust silences him. Reginald ushers them back into their respective rooms before Diego can come up with a clever response, and before he knows it he’s sitting in the dark on his bed, staring up at the moon, haunted by the vision in the keyhole, replaying the grotesque sequence in his head until the sun peeks through his blinds.  </p><p>Klaus finally surfaces for dinner the following day. Diego’s heart breaks—he’s back to the skeletal shell that he had been <em>before</em>, floating through the Academy with glassy eyes, plagued with sights unknown. His face is pale and gaunt, but this time when he stares across the dining table at Diego, there’s an urgency in his gaze. Diego doesn’t want to look at him, but he can’t look away. </p><p>After dinner, Diego’s heading to the library for some quiet when a bony hand wraps around his forearm and pulls him into the unoccupied drawing room. A scream dies in his throat when he’s shoved against a wall, Klaus’ eyes blazing into his. </p><p>“Shhh,” hisses Klaus. Diego can feel the imprint of death-cold fingers long after his hand is gone. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”</p><p>His voice is little more than a desperate whisper, wind sighing through a forest before a thunderstorm. “I need you to help me. Please, Di. Help me.”</p><p>Diego grabs at Klaus’ shoulders, horrified at how thin he feels under his uniform. “W-what do you need?”</p><p>Moonlight catches on the whites of Klaus’ eyes, making him appear even less human than before. <em>“Help me.”</em></p><p>“I said I’d do it! A-anything, anything, Klaus.”</p><p>“I need your knives. I need you to break the padlock with your knives. One of, um, the medium ones. I know you can do it, you just have to stand at the end of the hall and throw.”</p><p>“Okay, yeah. I’ll do it.”</p><p>Klaus lets out a relieved sigh and offers him a tired smile, but Diego can’t miss the way those wide, hungry eyes all but devour him. To his horror and revulsion, an answering desire pangs in Diego’s gut.</p><p>Suddenly, Klaus pitches forward and buries his face in Diego’s neck. Diego bites back a groan, hands fisting in Klaus’ blazer as his brother inhales almost obscenely.</p><p>“K-K-K-Klaus,” gasps Diego as chapped lips part and a cool tongue licks languidly, lewdly from his collarbone up to his jawline. </p><p>“I trust you,” murmurs Klaus, right in his ear. “I’ve always trusted you. With everything. Do you know that?”</p><p>“Yeah, <em>oh,</em> yeah.” Diego‘s eyelids flutter shut, and he’s acutely aware of the throbbing between his thighs. The press of his brother’s body against his is something he’s craved since birth, and this is so close to right that Diego pushes anything that tells him otherwise out of his head. “I t-trust you t-t-too.”</p><p>“I know.” </p><p>He <em>smells</em> like Klaus, which has to count for something: hair sweet from lavender shampoo, faint hints of Mom’s detergent...but there’s something else, too. Something sour, a bit musty, and, oddly, a little sweet. It’s familiar and entirely unfamiliar, the stench of something beautiful, once fresh, that’s only just started to turn, the cloying decay of dying flowers. </p><p>“And after,” murmurs Klaus, pressing a kiss just under Diego’s ear. “I want you to go back to your room. It will be safer for you there.”</p><p>“Will you come back?”</p><p>“I will come back. I just need...I just need to get out tonight. Please...please don’t ask me anymore questions.”</p><p>“I w-won’t.”</p><p>“Thanks. I love you, Di.” Klaus seals his whisper with a wet kiss to Diego’s neck, and Diego nearly moans with how badly he wants more, how he yearns to consume and be consumed by Klaus.</p><p>There’s a chill, and Diego opens his eyes to find himself achingly hard in the dark drawing room, left alone with the lingering scent of decadent rot and the echoes of Klaus’ love profusion.</p><p>He spends the rest of the night in a haze of confusion, his brain battling his heart and vice versa, until he can’t tell which part is arguing what. He knows he has to do this for Klaus, that he’s the only one who can help him, the only one who Klaus trusts. He won’t let his brother be imprisoned any longer. He gets in the shower and thinks about how healthy and happy Klaus had appeared that morning after he’d snuck out of the house, even more confident than before the incident. </p><p>How could something that had brought him back to life like that be bad? </p><p>He pops the cap of Klaus’ shampoo and inhales deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his forehead against the frigid tile of the shower wall. He thinks of cold touches and Klaus’ whispered <em>I love you</em> as he bites his bottom lip and reaches between his legs. </p><p>He wants his best friend back, he wants him safe and happy. If this is how he can have him, he’ll take it.</p><p>Night falls like cherry blossoms, unassuming and sudden. The Academy’s gone silent, save for the occasional clicking of Mom’s heels overhead. Diego waits until he can’t even hear those anymore before sliding his case out from under the bed. He grabs his three biggest knives, noting with slight hysteria that he used all three during the mission that cost Klaus his...during the mission when it all happened. </p><p>He can feel his pulse in his tongue as he opens his bedroom door and stares into the abyss of the corridor. His eyes adjust quickly as he pads over to Klaus’ door, knocking lightly. He nods at the faint answering knock. The plan is still on. </p><p>Once he’s at the end of the hall, he steels himself. <em>This is for Klaus. I’m doing this for Klaus.</em> His vision narrows as he stares at the locks on Klaus’ door and picks up his knife. He inhales, internalizing his power the way he’s been taught, and releases it on the exhale as he chucks the knife down the hall. There’s a heavy metallic noise and a thud.</p><p>Holy shit. He’s done it.</p><p> He rushes down to the door, kicking the padlock out of the way and opening it to an armful of Klaus. </p><p>“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a chilly kiss to Diego’s cheek. “Go back to sleep, Di.”</p><p>“I wanna come with you.”</p><p>Klaus’ eyes flash and narrow to slivers of darkness so breathtaking that Diego’s blood ices over. It’s the last thing he sees before he’s knocked unconscious.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There it is, part one of my TUA Vampire AU--I've been working on this bad boy on and off for so long!!  I am working on wrapping up the second part, I just keep rewriting the ending like the masochist that I am, but it should be up within the week. If you enjoyed this, please let me know with a comment--they sustain my blackened soul and my muse!</p><p>Not gonna lie, I almost straight-up named this fic Teenage Nosferatu Pussy, after the musical <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q86U5kD7Y84">masterpiece</a> that inspired it. But I went with some of the lyrics instead.</p><p>Here I am on <a href="http://hannibalssweaters.tumblr.com/">Tumblr dot com</a>, if you're into that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. part two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Diego had always suspected there were secret passages in this house, especially in Dad’s office, but coming face to face with one now, in this context, makes his stomach flip. Cautiously, he pushes it open. A sterile, narrow corridor greets him, stretching impossibly deep into the house, until it stops at a closed door.  Glancing behind him, Diego surmises that he is still very much alone before heading into the unknown. </em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego’s eyelids flutter open. He’s dizzy, and the base of his skull is throbbing. He sits up, squinting into obscurity. Klaus’ door is still ajar. His head lolls to the side. The rest of his siblings’ doors remain closed. He can’t have been out for long. </p><p>With a groan, he gets to his feet and tucks his knives into his belt. His heart pounds as he moves stealthily up the stairs, praying that no one can hear the heart thundering in his chest. </p><p>He peers around the corner. The sprawling entryway is vacant. He swallows, looks up. Mom isn’t sitting in front of her paintings, and the sound of Pogo’s cane is distractingly absent.</p><p>
  <em>Where is everybody?</em>
</p><p>He crouches down and moves towards the main staircase, freezing as he steps in something sticky. A bead of cold sweat rolls down his temple as he slowly lowers his gaze, lower, lower,  until it falls on a pool of blood, stark red against black and white tile. </p><p>Inhaling sharply through his nose, he wills himself to calm down enough to look around, taking in the splatter. It’s  like someone dropped a bucket of the stuff, and the trail of bloody footprints, leading…</p><p>Up the stairs.</p><p>Panic sears the edges of his vision. Is Mom okay? Is Pogo? Did Dad take Klaus somewhere, by force? </p><p>Or was this all staged so that Klaus could run away, never intending to come back for Diego like he promised?</p><p>Diego draws a knife and stalks up the stairs. Blood pulses in his ears, nearly drowning out the incessant <em>tick tick tick</em> of the clocks on the wall. </p><p>The footprints start to taper off towards Dad’s office, which isn’t a destination Diego would ever choose willingly, but the door’s cracked. Mouth dry, he gently pushes it open, knife poised to strike. His eyes widen, sweeping over the chaos before him. A lamp lies on its side, its bulb cracked and flickering. The desk is strewn with papers, drawers open, desk chair toppled. Diego reaches down to pull a gauzy black cardigan off an open drawer. His finger pokes through a hole in the sleeve. </p><p>
  <em>Klaus.</em>
</p><p>Something catches the corner of Diego’s eye. There’s a crack in a panel on the wall, leeching dim light onto the floor. A hidden doorway.</p><p>Diego had always suspected there were secret passages in this house, especially in Dad’s office, but coming face to face with one now, in this context, makes his stomach flip. Cautiously, he pushes it open. A sterile, narrow corridor greets him, stretching impossibly deep into the house, until it stops at a closed door.  Glancing behind him, Diego surmises that he is still very much alone before heading into the unknown. </p><p>He wonders how many times Klaus was dragged or forced down this hallway.</p><p>Diego’s breathing grows shallow as he reaches the door. He twists the doorknob, expecting resistance, heart skipping a beat when it opens easily. </p><p>Everything <em>stops.</em></p><p>There, on the floor, in the middle of an asylum-white medical office, is Klaus.  He’s hunched at an unnatural angle over their father’s twitching, unconscious body, and when Diego gasps, he unlatches his lips from Reginald’s neck long enough to look up, eyes shining like obsidian, blood dripping copiously down his chin, down his soft, grey tee shirt. </p><p>Diego wants to run, but he’s rooted in place, staring. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he knows that it hadn’t been this.</p><p>Klaus’ coal-black eyes flicker back to vibrant green as an ethereal blue glue radiates from his body. “Diego.”</p><p>Diego’s mouth falls open. Nothing comes out. Klaus licks his lips and exhales in something akin to pleasure, rolling his head back and, to Diego’s continued astonishment, levitates off the floor, crossing his legs as he ascends, staring down at him. He’s beautiful, preternaturally so, and <em>terrifying,</em> and Diego can’t help but fall to his knees like a supplicant. </p><p>“I don’t...I feel so...” Klaus’ voice is joined in concert by many others, an unnatural symphony that chills Diego’s blood. His lips part and his eyelids flutter; he could be in ecstasy. “I’ve never felt this way before, Di. I can’t explain it. This energy, this <em>power,</em> it’s more than anything I’ve ever known, it’s...I can’t describe it.”</p><p>It’s rolling off of him, the energy, the power, engulfing Diego like a fog. He’s torn between his desires to worship Klaus, and to save Klaus, and to stop Klaus. A groan tears Diego’s eyes from his brother. Reginald is shuddering, mouth contorted in pain as his eyes move rapidly behind half-shut eyelids, blood seeping from the wounds in his neck.</p><p>“He’ll live.” Klaus is standing right before Diego, looking down, bemused. Like he knows something that Diego doesn’t.</p><p>That yanks Diego right out of his haze and propels him to his feet. Crazed, unseeing, he grabs his brother’s shoulders and shakes him, hard. “What the hell have you done, Klaus?! He’ll <em>live?</em> Look at him! You almost killed Dad!”</p><p>“Who <em>cares?!”</em> Klaus’ fury nearly knocks Diego back as darkness swallows his eyes once more. He wrenches himself out of Diego’s grip and explodes upwards, the electric blue aura pulsing around his body as unnatural wind gusts through the room, forcing each drawer in every cabinet open, exposing grim secrets concealed by walls and gaunt, tear-stained cheeks. “The second he found out that something had happened to me, something bad, something beyond his scope of comprehension, he brought me here! Everyday he poked and prodded, blood draws and tests, unwilling to accept what I told him I needed! He refused, over and over, torturing me, starving me of the blood I desperately needed in favor of documenting every last humiliating detail in his precious fucking notes!”</p><p>Diego’s vision blurs around the edges as Klaus’ words hit him like a train, falling back to his knees as his eyes rake over drawers full of syringes and scalpels, metal pokers and thick rubber tubes and contraptions that make his skin crawl. “I-I-I d-d-didn’t, I didn’t know--”</p><p>“I <em>told</em> him what I needed!” Klaus roars, his aura licking off of him like flames off the sun. “He wouldn’t fucking listen, like he never <em>fucking</em> listens! He broke me down, he starved me, hid me away, he wouldn’t let me see anyone, he wouldn’t let me see you…”</p><p>Klaus voice softens. He descends slowly, drifting like a leaf lost to autumn until he’s standing in front of Diego again. Diego realizes the wet wheezing sound is coming from him, and blinks rapidly to release his tears.</p><p>“And M-Mom?” Diego hates how pathetic he sounds, hates the concrete reality of his fear. “Pogo?”</p><p>“They tried to...they’re safe.” He pauses. “I had to do it. I had to.”</p><p>“Where are they?”</p><p>“I locked them in the dark place.” Klaus turns away. “They tried to take me there. They’ve taken Vanya there, I know. They’re safe, just...I had to hide them. I was trying to leave, and Dad…”</p><p>Silence falls then, charged, oppressive. </p><p>“I’m s-s-s-sorry I didn’t protect you,” Diego finally grits out, voice cracking. </p><p>“You did, though. You did protect me. I know you didn’t stop looking for me, didn’t stop trying to find out what had happened to me. You’ve always been the only one I can trust.  Then you helped me escape, and now…” Klaus reaches down and takes Diego’s chin in his hand. The breath is knocked from Diego’s lungs. He’s intoxicating to behold, and he can do little more than stare up into his brother’s bright eyes as his words wash over him, the heavy sounds of their breath hanging between them, two hearts beating in tandem, as Klaus slowly helps him to his feet. </p><p>He pulls Diego close.</p><p>They’re on each other in an instant, mouths devouring, desperate. Klaus slips his tongue between Diego’s lips and he balks at the coppery taste of blood there. Ignoring it, he kisses him harder, sliding his hands under Klaus’ damp tee shirt and running them over every last inch of smooth, cold skin. </p><p>Klaus shoves him, hard, onto the exam table, pupils spilling into his irises as he sheds his clothes. Fuck, he’s so unspeakably gorgeous, Diego doesn’t know where to look first, and oh <em>fuck,</em> he’s so hard. Heart pounding in his throat, hands sliding through spattered blood as he scrambles to steady himself, Diego struggles to maintain the barest grasp on sanity as he watches the only person he’s ever desired crawl between his legs.</p><p>“I’ve wanted you for so long,” murmurs Klaus, urgently pulling Diego’s pants off. “You want me too, don’t you, Diego?”</p><p>“Yeah, oh god, yeah.” Diego’s eyelids flutter as Klaus straddles him, pushing their bare chests together, blood and sweat and skin, Klaus’ erection pressing against his thigh. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, oh my god, <em>Klaus.”</em></p><p>Klaus bites his bottom lip, his long canines puncturing the plush flesh and releasing hot red rivulets that drip through the congealing blood on his chin. Utterly paralyzed by his arousal, Diego pulls his brother down and plunges his tongue between his lips. He’s cold, so fucking cold, yet Diego <em>burns</em> where they touch, heat coiling in his belly and spreading throughout his body like wildfire. </p><p>He shifts, sweaty back sticking to the unforgiving plastic of the exam table, and cries out, nails digging into Klaus’ back as their cocks brush together. </p><p>“Fuck me.” Klaus sits up, swollen lips parted as he stares at Diego hungrily. He grinds down, and Diego cries out and grabs his hips as a spiral of white-hot lust shoots through him. Trembling, Klaus leans down, yanks a bottle of lubricant from an open drawer and presses it into Diego’s hand, eyes manic. “Fuck me, Di.”</p><p>Everything blacks out while Diego’s overwhelmed brain attempts to process what Klaus just said, and for one terrible moment, he worries that he might just come on the spot. When he regains enough control of his faculties to respond, he’s horrified to hear himself whisper, “I don’t know h-h-h-how.”</p><p>“Don’t worry.” Feather-light, dew-chilled kisses fall across Diego’s face as Klaus rubs reassuring hands over his arms and chest. “I’ll show you, I’ll show you.”<br/>
“O-okay.”</p><p>“Do you trust me, Di?”</p><p>“Yeah...yes.” </p><p>
  <em>“Good.”</em>
</p><p>Time slows to a honey-thick sludge as Diego submits himself to Klaus under the garish lights of the exam room, watching like a spectator as Klaus dumps the lubricant on his own fingers. </p><p>“Tell me you want this,” says Klaus, reaching behind himself, his face is contorting in bliss. </p><p>“I w-want this.” Diego stares up at him, eyes shining, burning as Klaus stares into his eyes, hips rolling as he fingers himself open. </p><p><em>”Me too.”</em> Klaus’ prick brushes against Diego’s again, and <em>oh god,</em> he’s wet. Diego bites his lip and stares down at where they’re pressed together, so hard, dripping on each other so copiously that they’re slick with it. </p><p>“Oh my god, I d-don’t know if I can last--”</p><p>“You can, Di, I know you can.” Klaus’ lips are shiny with drool, redder than the now congealing blood on his chin, on his chest. He licks them like he’s savoring them, and Diego grips his thighs urgently. </p><p>“Please, Klaus, please.”</p><p>Klaus’ head falls back and he gasps, hand flying to Diego’s bicep, shuddering violently as the aura pulses around him. “Yeah, fuck, I’m ready.”</p><p>Diego’s chest heaves like a hummingbird’s as he watches Klaus spit a pinkish glob of saliva onto his prick. He grabs him and pulls with a gloriously tight, dreadfully cold fist, completely destroying his senses, and his head rolls to the side and--</p><p>Reginald’s lying on the floor, breathing shallow pants, bleeding, unconscious. </p><p>“Look at me, Diego.” An extra tight yank to his prick forces Diego’s eyes back to Klaus, shuddering, fear seeping into his tightly-coiled arousal. “Do you trust me?”</p><p>He nods. </p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>“I t-t-trust you.”</p><p>“Do you want me?”</p><p>“M-more than anything.”</p><p>“So take me.” Those slick red lips part and the muscles in Klaus’ torso tense as he lifts himself up, staring into Diego’s eyes as he lowers himself down, just a little more, and Diego’s gasping and squeezing his eyes shut because he’s <em>inside</em> Klaus, he’s inside him, and he’s tight and wet and cold and hot at the same time. </p><p>“Open your eyes.”</p><p>Diego can’t control his breath, harsh and loud through his nose, terrified that if he opens his eyes, he’ll come.</p><p>“Look at me, Di.”</p><p>He obeys, and pangs of fear and lust and dread and love hit him like fists--Klaus is fully seated astride his lap, chest glistening with sweat and blood, lips parted, glowing like the supernatural entity that he is.</p><p>Diego unclenches his fingers from where they’re gripping his brother’s hips to slide an appreciative hand up his side. “Oh, god, Klaus...”</p><p> </p><p>“Do I feel good?” Klaus undulates his body, and Diego nearly loses his mind.</p><p>“So good.”</p><p>Klaus lets out an ecstatic sigh and tips his head back, licking his lips as he moves again, and again, slow at first, then picking up his pace until he’s riding Diego so hard the drawers are shaking, their contents rattling. </p><p>“You feel good, too,” he murmurs, sliding cool palms up Diego’s quivering stomach, his chest. “So big, so fucking hard. So...mmm…”</p><p><em>“Jesus, Klaus.”</em> </p><p>“You’re mine, Diego,” groans Klaus, and Diego’s back arches against the table as Klaus twists his hips, body rolling like a dancer, mouth open with the pleasure of it all. “Tell me you’re mine.”</p><p>“I’m y-yours, <em>ohgod,</em> I’m yours, Klaus.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus lets out a sweet gasp, and Diego seizes his chance. He sits up, grabbing Klaus by the small of his back, shooting a hand behind his back to steady himself. He stares into Klaus’ eyes as he sinks sinfully deep into his body, clamoring to hold onto this, fighting every urge to release. Klaus dips his head and stares into his eyes, and Diego swears he’s staving off his orgasm with his mind. He wraps his arms around his neck and brings their bodies flush, noses brushing, panting into his mouth, and they’re as close as two people can be and it’s gorgeous and overwhelming and so incredibly hot it’s almost painful.</p><p>Diego kisses him deep, and thrusts, hard. Klaus lets out a broken moan, hips stuttering, prick sliding wetly across Diego’s trembling stomach. </p><p>“Klaus,” whispers Diego, vision blurring as Klaus leans down and mouths across his neck. “Klaus…”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to taste you.” Klaus digs his nails into Diego’s back and licks a cold stripe up his neck. “Can I? Oh, please, Di, can I?”</p><p>“Yeah, y-yeah,” moans Diego, a wave of bliss rolling through him as Klaus tightens around him. “Anything, anything, Klaus.”</p><p>“Fuck, I love you.” Klaus lowers his head, parts his lips, and bites.</p><p>Indescribable agony and ecstasy burst within Diego at once, throbbing in the fresh punctures in his neck, shooting through his cock, up his spine, radiating out through his fingers and toes. He cries out and buries his hand in sweaty curls, holding Klaus’ eager mouth in place. </p><p>Klaus moans against his flesh and <em>sucks,</em> and Diego seizes up and <em>screams</em> as he comes and comes and comes and comes, pulsing blood and semen into his brother’s writhing body until he aches.</p><p>“Klaus--Klaus,” he whimpers, vision beginning to tunnel. “It hurts.”</p><p>Klaus pulls off with a wicked moan, plush lips deep crimson, open like a wound, and shoves Diego onto his back, squeezing his eyes shut and licking his lips as he bucks against him wildly for a few delirious moments, then he stills and comes, untouched, all over Diego’s stomach and chest with a feral cry that sends shivers up Diego’s spine. </p><p>Panting breaths fill the room as they come down, covered in fluids. Klaus lets out sated little laughs as his tongue flickers out to chase Diego’s blood.</p><p>Diego stares up at him in awe. </p><p>“That was so good,” murmurs Klaus against his mouth. “That was so good, Di.”</p><p>Diego’s brain feels muted as he kisses him, running absent hands up and down Klaus’ body, like he might not get the chance to do so again. “So good, you’re amazing. I l-love you, Klaus.”</p><p>“I love you, too. So much.” Klaus nuzzles the fresh bite marks on Diego’s neck with his nose, and Diego hisses in pain. “Aw, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll heal you right up.”</p><p>“Will I...will I be like you, now?” Diego’s blood runs cold and his head throbs. He had been so lost in Klaus, so willing to give his brother anything and everything that he asked for, that he hadn’t even considered caring about that at the time.</p><p>Klaus smiles, his aura brightening. “We’ll have to see.”</p><p>With a distressed sigh, Diego looks away. Saliva rushes to his mouth at the sight of blood congealing on Reginald’s body, now still, now quiet, and suddenly he can’t remember for the life of him the last moment he felt full. </p><p>Klaus climbs off of him and bends at the waist to gingerly retrieve his shirt. “You okay, Di?”</p><p>Diego doesn’t respond. His whole body is tingling, shuddering like he’s got a fever. Eyes transfixed on the blood on Reginald’s neck, he slides off of the table and stands over his father’s body. The scent of the blood is <em>overwhelming.</em></p><p>Klaus appears beside him and takes his hand. With a start, Diego realizes that it’s warm.</p><p>“C’mon, Di. Let’s go before we make things worse.”</p><p>“Sh-shouldn’t we tell the others?”</p><p>“No! Are you crazy? They’ll flip out!”</p><p>“I at least have to let Mom out, so she can help...so she can help.”</p><p>“They’ll never let us leave, Di.” For the first time that night, Diego sees real fear in Klaus’ eyes. He chews on his bitten lip. “They’ll never let us go.”</p><p>Stomach twisting, Diego opens his mouth to say something, but a bright drop of fresh blood on Klaus’ lip sends every thought fleeing from his mind and fires every synapse in his brain. He feels himself stiffen again, pulse racing in his ears and rushing between his legs.</p><p>“Oh. <em>Oh.”</em> Klaus leans in, and Diego crushes their mouths together, biting down hard on Klaus’ lip. The rush of blood on his tongue has him moaning in pleasure, and all he wants is more blood, more Klaus, more…</p><p>He backs Klaus up against the wall and sucks on his lip, chasing the high. He’s never felt this way before, like he’s possessed, like he’s invincible.He’s almost vibrating with the urgent need to take, take take.</p><p><em>”Diego.”</em> Klaus pulls away, breathing hard.</p><p>Diego pushes him against the wall and grabs his throat, fingers digging into his healed wounds. Klaus gasps and bites his lip, hands flying to grab at Diego’s. </p><p>“You made me yours, and now you are mine,” murmurs Diego, a voice surging forth from somewhere deep inside him, a place somehow both ancient and new. </p><p>“I’m yours,” gasps Klaus, eyes wide, pupils blown. “Yes, always, always yours, Di.”</p><p>Diego pins him against the wall and draws his leg over his hip to take him hard and fast, thunderous strength rippling through him as he catches each one of Klaus’ cries and moans in his mouth, until the both of them are coming again, hot and sticky and explosive. </p><p>“Klaus,” whispers Diego, fire spiking in his belly, coursing through his veins. Klaus’ eyelids flutter as he gasps and pants and shakes in his arms, not responding. <em>“Klaus.”</em></p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>
  <em>“I’m hungry.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ta da! Weird vampire sex! Feel free to shower me in comments and kudos if you enjoyed this, and here I am on <a href="http://hannibalssweaters.tumblr.com/">Tumblr dot com</a>, if you're into that.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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